


A Soft Place To Fall

by Sonny



Series: Desolation Road [1]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-24
Updated: 2004-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-12 13:49:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is devastated by Ben's infidelity, at a weak moment. Brian is with him at the time and has to watch Michael suffer through his emotions. When Michael feels that he has no one on his side, but Brian... he turns to him in a time of need where Brian's decision will either make or break him. What will Brian do in order to protect his best friend? ; **Extra Summary** : This will be the beginning to a series of mini-fics based on this plot. The first fic will describe the Why? of what will happen, the second will describe the What? of what is happening... then every following story will trail the rest of the plot until an eventual ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Soft Place To Fall

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone, and everyone, (you know who you are) who's ever supported me with no questions asked... and allowed me to work out my problems on my own, with some semblance of sanity.

**DESOLATION ROAD SERIES - Fic #1  
**

  


I don’t know how long we lay in Michael’s old childhood room, on his Captain Astro covered twin mattress. For now, there wasn’t anywhere either of us wanted to be. Michael had finally fallen asleep a few hours ago, locked in my arms. Secure to my chest, I can feel his puffs of breath on my neck, blowing across my skin. The chill-bumps have begun, running down my spine. I press my lips to the top of his sweet-smelling, freshly washed hair, that’s been air drying since we got out of the shower together.

I’ve never taken a shower like that with another man. It’s always been slamming them to the other wall, face first, spreading their ass cheeks in order to fuck them into oblivion. Instead, this time, I had nothing but love, care and respect in my heart. I wanted to cherish every square inch of Michael. Embed his memory on my mind forever, so I couldn’t shut my eyes without thinking about him.

We had silently decided to leave our underwear on, knowing that it wasn’t top priority to get fucked or be fucked. The importance, arising, was sharing in each other’s presence and knowing you were being loved, treasured. Let me tell you, though, it was the hottest shower I’ve ever been a part of, even with our skimpy clothing left on. We took turns washing each other’s bodies, paying particular close attention to avoiding our crotch areas. When those awkward moments came, we’d pause, knowing where our hands wanted to be, where our fingers were eager to touch, caress. The rest of our skin got the brunt of our refusal to bend to our baser instincts.

Our faces would come closer, our lips blending like always. The kisses weren’t hurried or eager, rushed. They were... like finding peace after a long fought war, or getting the ability to breath after drowning for years. We ached for what we both were deciding to forego for the night. Our bodies knew where we should go, our dicks were happy to follow, but our hearts knew... this was not the way to take the next step after what had happened, before we came to the Novotny home. Ending up sleeping together in Michael’s old childhood bedroom, content with simply being quiet, absorbing each other’s nearness... was where we struggled to find ourselves.

What happened? What happened to bring us to this boiling point in our relationship? Where, for the first time, Michael had no one to turn to, where I had no misgivings about who was becoming important to me. Where Michael was simply bone-tired of all the shit that seemed to want to bring his excitement down, continually making him wonder about his own worth. I had my own problems with that part of my life, I hated it even more when Michael walked down that road with me.

I saw so much in him to admire, that I surely lacked. The capacity in his heart, for one. The sweet, forgiving soul who never made anyone feel like they made one mistake, even when you know you’ve fucked up royally. His ability to see the *light* at the end of a dark, dank tunnel of misery. His endearing humor at the most awkward of times, making one laugh until you knew you’d pull some vital organ or peed your pants, for sure. His unselfish behavior for family and friends, for humanity in general. He’d go out of his way to make someone else feel comfortable, letting his own feelings lay quietly on the side, forgotten.

I wanted to BE Michael when I grew up. He doesn’t know that. Maybe one day I’ll tell him, in private, whispering it in his ear. His raven black locks feel silky in my fingers. Still slightly wet, they filter through my fingers like precious glass. I don’t know if I should fall asleep or not. I’m afraid I’ll lose this moment for it’s significance if I let the minutes tick by with my eyes closed.

When Michael first lay on the bed, he was on his back, staring at the ceiling. Soon, once I nudged my pelvis to spoon behind him, he became willing to be close enough to share the tiny bed space as we lay in silence. I literally had Michael sitting on my lap by my drawn up egs, his round tush curved perfectly to my groin. As we crawled under the covers, our heated bodies blending their warmth, Michael drew my arms to surround his front, tenderly massaging the light spattering of hair on my forearms.

Suddenly we were realizing we weren’t fourteen anymore. We were grown men, with complete lives, secret desires, burning needs, broken hearts and old hurts that had never healed properly. One wound had been freshly made this very night. I tried to control myself, tucking my face into the back of Michael’s head, but my lips felt compelled to kiss the nape there, under the hairline, exposed. I guess I  
shouldn’t have thrust toward him, but it wasn’t something I could NOT do. Just like my hand wasn’t capable of NOT trailing down to Michael’s groin and seeking the stiff organ hidden beneath.

Wait! My brow had furrowed in deep thought. I can’t do this. I couldn’t do this to Michael right now. As much as he was making me hard, making me wish I didn’t have a conscious when I was with him, it wasn’t JUST about S-E-X with us. There was so much more that existed. More emotional and heart-based, that I didn’t have the decency to dirty it with a quick fuck in the dark, or in a moment of weakness, even in the eyes of revenge. The sweetest of it’s kind.

Michael finally decided to change his position again. He would lay on his right side, tucked under my arm. I liked this one better. We still felt the other person’s increased passion, but there was something more soothing, more poignant about cradling someone special in your arms. You on your back, laying open and vulnerable. Your companion drawing to your side, an arm secure about your waist, a leg thrown between your thighs, entangling with your own feet. Every now and again, when your bed partner moved or shuffled, you both knew you were one or two steps away from having them lay on top of you. And you were strangely okay with that, as long as the elbows remained off your body. Jutting elbow bones weren’t fun, unless you were in the middle of a thorough massage.

My hand falls off Michael’s head, moving to ensnare him close to me. I was the one that brought him to lay all over me. Michael turned his face away, cheek to my shoulder bone. He exhaled a satisfied  breath, lost in some dreamland I can’t touch. I stretched my arms down, flanking Michael’s sides, caressing his naked flesh. My fingers travel down his curved back, ending up at the hemmed waistline of his sweat pants. I find a way inside, under the soft material. All I want to do is cup him to me, apply pressure to our joined groins. My fingers splay over the flawless backside. I squeeze the pliable flesh gently. It’s a pleasurable pain I cannot resist, so I do it again. Those small actions cause mini-moans to expel from Michael’s mouth and his pelvis is subconsciously thrusting, ghosting the movement from his own dreams... or nightmares.

I’m sure of that the minute he lifts his head, putting pressure on our joined mouths, our rushed breaths filling the space between our faces. He’s hungry and panting, wanting more to happen. He’s  straddling my hips, reaching back for my hands to increase their torture. I’m certain that Michael is still caught in his dream, unable to open his eyes to the reality that exists. For only a second or two, I’m caught, trapped in his mastery of what he knows will please me in sexual completion. He’s willing to go further, but *I* am the one in doubt whether he knows it’s ME... or Ben.

Michael is munching at my lips. “Michael.” I try to get out when he’s not trying to bite me. “Mikey.” This time I shake him, as well.

Pain-filled chocolate eyes stare down at me, finally open and understanding what he’d almost done. Michael falls back to my chest, attempting to hide his embarrassment in the curve of my neck and  
shoulder. “I’m so... sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

“Hush, Michael.” I tenderly comfort Michael as he begins to lose himself back into tears. Sobs that wrack against my chest and pelt my heart. I cannot bear to hear him react this way, but I know it’s what Michael has to do in order to come back to life. Me... I do everything in my power to avoid weeping, until the very last minute.

“Did it actually happen like I thought it did?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. Was what we saw at the loft, really what my life has turned out to become?” Michael closed his eyes in agony. “A fuckin’ joke.”

I’d have tried to beat it into Michael’s head that he wasn’t a joke or a loser, with a capital *L*... but what we had witnessed tonight had pummeled me, too. Michael was too caught up in his own emotional turmoil that he didn’t see it on my face, which was a relief. I only wanted to concentrate on him, for right now.

Ben and Michael had gotten serious. And I began to get scared. Not for reasons you think, but because Michael had this uncanny ability to have men run screaming for their lives the minute an ounce of permanence came about. It wasn’t an instantaneous fear, but a gradual thing. Like making wedded bliss plans, buying a huge land of property to build a house on and setting up things with your lawyers for your committed *homosexual* marriage... but then one day, in the middle of the night, realizing, “WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING?”.

And then simply spiraling everything else in your life into some fucked up mess of jumbled emotions, hurtful wounds and shattered lives.

If Professor Ben Bruckner were here... I would kick his ass. No matter how *hot* he looked.

Mother Fuckin’ Asshole!

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**   
**~~ &&~~FLASHBACK -** **Earlier this evening ~~&&~~**   
**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
The two giggling friends could barely make it up the flight of stairs. One completely high and drunk off the non-stop rush of alcohol. He towered over his smaller, dark-haired companion, who was reaching heights unknown of a combination of drugs, Mary Jane and *E*. He was supposed to have been the designated driver of the evening, but his honey-haired, taller friend didn’t want him to be a spoilsport, missing out on all the fun.

Babylon had been marking their anniversary, centered around an 80s theme celebration. The tall friend was dressed like London’s Bad Boy Rocker, Billy Idol. The smaller friend was England’s Pretty Punk Rocker, Adam Ant. Emmett, as Boy George, had designed their outfits, created their make-up, himself. They were proudly carrying the trophies they’d won for the most realistic costumes. They were still quite unsure of what exactly Ted had been. All that red pleather made him look more like the lead singer of Loverboy, then Michael Jackson in Thriller. I guess the sparkling glove would have been the *clincher* had someone NOT stolen it. Emmett was sure Ted had flushed it down the toilet or left it somewhere where someone could have taken it. He’d worked for hours to sew on every metallic beaded circle.

 _ ***BILLY***_ began to churn his face. His lip beginning to quiver in his signature snarl. “Come on... it’s a... nish day... for ah.... white.... a-weddinggggg...!”

 _ ***ADAM***_ couldn’t help chuckling absurdly at his pal’s warbled singing. Off-key was taken to new levels of shame. “Sshhh... we might wake somebody!” He was whispering louder than normal.

“Fuck!” _ ***BILLY***_ caught sight of their reflection in the glass of the entrance door. “We look damn-ed sex-hay... Mikey!” He took their trophies, setting them down in the corner, hidden away.

Michael moved his body to block Brian’s image, loving the undivided attention he’d had from his best friend nearly all night. They were still, literally, hanging off one another, as if sustaining themselves by their simple connection. “Em did a fine damn job. We should’ve paid ‘im! These outfits are so realistic! Did you know...” Michael reached up to grab one end of his braids, attached to his real hair. “... these babies are fifteen dollars a pop?!” He didn’t know how close Brian really was as he shook his head, pelting Brian and his own face with the beads on the ends. He chuckled like a little boy.

Brian backed up, shielding his mascara-ed eyes from harm. “Christ! Could poke an eye out with that expensive head of hair, Mikey!”

“Oooops! Sorry!” Michael swiveled around to glance at his best friend. He smiled mischievously as he looked at what Brian wore. “Billy Idol never looked THIS good, in the 80s.” He walked over to tug on all the strappy leather Biker gear that made up Brian’s ensemble.

“Ssshhh...” Brian snatched up Michael’s hand in his, dragging him up the steps. “Come on...” He hooked an arm around Michael’s neck, pulling him to his body to whisper near his ear. “I think we might be able to catch the tail end of that *I love the 80s* marathon. I swear...” Brian moved to pinch the bare flesh exposed by the pirate-style shirt tied about Michael’s torso. “There’s this guy on there... reminds me of you. Fuckin’ uncanny!”

“They say we all have a *twin* we’ve never met.” Michael grabbed onto Brian’s hand on his shoulder, kind of helping him up the stairs. “You know I’ve always told you that young actor... uh,...” He was drawing a blank to the exact name.

“Ashton Kutcher?” Brian shook his head in befuddlement.

“Not as adorable as you, though. Same for me, I hope?”

“Nah, you’re much better lookin’... plus, he’s on TV and you’re... RIGHT HERE... in my arms.” Brian bit at the end of Michael’s ear lobe, reaching through the open collar of the shirt and vests to tweak a nipple. Some deliciously naked flesh was displayed that caused Brian to lick his lips wondering how the texture would taste on his tongue.

“Wait!” Michael paused on their trek upstairs.

“What?!”

“Do you have munchies? Totally awesome if we could curl up on the couch, wasting away the rest of the night, coming down off our highs.... with some killer munchies. And beer. Beer’s good.”

“Toooo-taaall-lleee, Dude!”

“Fuckin’ Awesome.”

“Duuuude!” Brian raced Michael to the loft door.

Michael thought he heard a noise, like something falling. “Hang on!” He stopped on the next step, pausing to discover if he was simply hearing things.

Brian heard the strange noises, too. His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Hmm... peculiar. Awfully loud to be termites... or rats.” He placed his ear on the door’s surface.

“Unless...” Michael lowered the pitch of his voice to *spook-level*, like when you tell your favorite ghost story. “... these rats are the size of... HUMAN BEINGS!” He tip-toed the rest of the way, reaching Brian’s side.

“Mikey... I’m es-cared!” Brian pouted, pretending to be afraid of the *boogeyman*. He faked holding onto Michael, his teeth chattering in fear. “Hold me.”

Michael pulled away. He fixed his stance to be trite, super hero quality. “Stand back, little one! I WILL PROTECT YOU!” The knuckles on his fists rested on his hips, cheesy smile on his painted lips.

Brian placed a quivering hand to his mouth. “Oh please help me, Captain-Super-King-Punk-Rocker-Adam-Ant looking hero! You’re my only hope!”

“Dum-Dum-Dun-Da!” Michael tried to heave-ho the door with only one arm, nearly pulling the bone out of the socket. “Damn! I guess that pussy-whipped Popeye was right! Spinach... NOT soy products and sprouts!” He turned to glance over his shoulder. “Mind lending your *hero* a hand?!”

“Will I get a discount off my final bill?”

“Negotiable. Let’s wait to see what we find behind the door to the bowels of Hell Incarnate.”

As weak as they were from being high, semi-drunk, Brian and Michael finally were able to slide the door open. They patted each other’s shoulder for a good effort made. Now, they could hear the curious noises much clearer.

“You first.” Michael bowed graciously, gesturing his hand in a sweeping motion for Brian to enter.

“Sshh. Be vewy, vewy quiet. I’m huntin’ vewy, nawty twinks!” Brian reached behind him, again, to grab for Michael’s hand as he paced up to one of the poles, connected from floor to ceiling.

“Brian!” Michael began to whisper loudly, but Brian‘s index finger quieted him.

“Shush!” Brian then proceeded to mouth the word *Justin*.

Michael tried to lean over to peek into the bedroom. Off balance, he nearly landed head first on the floor.

Brian saved Michael by catching him on the back of his low-riding pants. “Whoa, there!”

Michael was bent over, fingers skimming the hardwood flooring. “Shit! Major wedgie!”

Brian snorted a chuckle, pulling Michael up into his arms.

They realized, too late, that they’d said their words out loud. Shoving hands over their mouths, stemming foolish giggles, like precocious school boys, they waited for the occupants of the bedroom to finish up.

**~~ &&~~&&~~** **From Brian’s Bedroom** **~~ &&~~&&~~**

 _“Did you hear that?!” The overheated deep bass voice asked, catching his breath._

 _“What?!” Came out Justin’s voice, spent and breathless, as well._

 _“I thought I heard...”_

 _“Why did you stop?”_

 _“Well, because...”_

 _“Don’t stop! Fuck me! Harder!”_

 _“Like this!”_

 _“Ugh! Yeah, but...” Justin moaned out his pleasure. “... harder...”_

 _“You’re insatiable!” There were sounds of slapping thighs and skin rubbing, pounding._

 _“Fuck! Yeah!”_   
**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
There was some major *fuckin’* being had on Brian’s king-sized mattress... and so strange that Brian wasn’t a part of it.

Go... Justin!

Brian didn’t seem disturbed at all. He was quite eager to get a good look at who Justin had chosen to *bang* on his bed. But not before he motioned for Michael to take a look at him, waving a hand in front of his face. Brian wrapped one leg about the pole, mimicking what could be heard echoing through the loft, and what Brian could only imagine in his fragile mind.

Poor, innocent unsuspecting pole, ravaged by it’s owner like that.

Grabbing the solid structure, like a lover’s body, Brian simulated sex against the surface, showing his exhaustion when the voices showed their own.

Michael could barely hold back his laughter with two hands.

Lost in the euphoria of their silliness, and companionship, Brian trumped across the floor, climbing on top of the extended coffee table, under the glass panels lining his bedroom wall. All he had to do was give them a tiny shove and he would be able to view the *action* on the bed.

Justin and his ill-fated partner seemed to be reaching a point of completion. A mutual orgasm in sight.

Hands raised on the panel casings, Brian pushed, prepared to tease and joke with the embarrassed couple. “Got-...” Stunned hazel eyes couldn’t fathom what he was witnessing. His exclamation fell on dead silence. “...-cha...” The shocked intake of Michael’s breath made Brian close the panels quickly. “No! Michael! NO!” Brian tried to climb down, hoping to catch Michael before he solidified what he thought he had seen with a second look.

No such luck! Fuckin’ bullshit!

Brian watched Michael’s reaction to seeing his life crumbling into one BIG, HUGE pile of lies. The one fear had been proven, but this time he didn’t want any of it to be true.

Michael could barely move, except to bow his head in shame. He felt like a fool. What had he ever done to deserve treatment like this?

“Mikey... look at me.”

“No.” The word was said so softly, it didn’t even sound like Michael had said anything.

“Michael, please...” Brian paced to the end edge of the furniture he was standing on. He held out his hand, palm up. “Take my hand.”

Michael’s wide chocolate eyes turned to stare up at Brian. “Why?”

Brian reached out to take Michael’s dangling arm, threading his fingers with Michael’s. “We’ll blow this pop-stand. Just you... and I. We’ll drive until we run out of gas. Cross country. No one to worry about. No one to care about us. Brian and Mikey, like always. Like it should be. Fuck ‘em all!!”

“You didn’t...?” Michael’s eyes dilated wondering if this was some *game* Brian was playing. If this had been another one of those fateful *cliffs* he enjoyed pushing people over.

Brian closed his eyes, swallowing with some difficulty. He dragged Michael away from the view into his bedroom, taking up his other hand. “I know I deserve that, but no. I had some idea that Justin was pleased about a new man in his life, but frankly... I have slowly begun not to care so much, lately.” He wanted to say more, but now was not the time to say his peace, convey his real feelings to Michael. “I didn’t think it was gonna be... THIS.” He chucked his thumb over his shoulder. “I admit to being a bastard, at times, even to you, but I would never sink to this kind of level. I swear to you, Michael.” He brought up Michael’s hands, between his, and pressed a reassuring kiss to the cold flesh.

“I... uh, need some fresh air.” Michael took one final glance away, resolved to feel whatever he was feeling at the moment. He wanted to make sure, in his head, he had seen what he had thought he had, only a few minutes ago. He tugged his hands from Brian’s clasp, wiping the sweat on his clothes. He hooked his thumbs in his back pockets, unable to speak one more word, gulps and pants of dry sobs exiting. Then he swiftly bolted out of the loft, shutting the door on a solid slide.

Brian shut his eyes on the loud bang the metal made.

Now THAT... should wake up the *lovers*!

“Christ!” Brian bent his head to his chest. Hands on his hips, he jumped down from his perch. The tell-tale signs of discarded clothing following a path into the bedroom. He picked up each article, hording everything in his arms. He used this time to re-think how he’d handle the next few minutes. Michael’s dead eyes were a good motivator. Calm, Kinney. Keep it cool... real cool. He had to behave for Michael’s sake. “HI, HONEY! I’M HOME!” Clomping up the two steps, Brian made his way over to the bed. His lethal pointy booted feet jumped up to purposefully disturbed the entwined lovers in mid-orgasm. “Don’t mind me. I just live, eat, sleep and occasionally fuck here. Promise not to jiggle the mattress too much. I tend to be a very light sleeper.”

Justin’s wide, dilated, blue eyes were trapped in befuddlement staring up at Brian, and the way he looked at the moment. The muscular Adonis laying hunched over him, buried his face in the billowed sheets surrounding their meshed forms. One of Justin’s hands froze on the perfectly round ass, the other was mussing up the blond hair at the back of the bent head. “Brian...”

“Save it, Sunshine. Rules is rules. I have no claim on you... you have no rights to me. Basically, it’s a free-for-all fuck.” Brian bounced down to land in a sitting position on his own bed, sitting Indian style. “Except when you mess with Michael.” He reached out to pull on Justin’s hair. “You’re lucky he’s laying on top of you. I’d beat the living shit outta you for fuckin’ with Michael.”

“Thanks...” Justin was shocked that Brian’s grip of his hair was actually quite gentle. It was only that right now, after his orgasm, he was slightly sensitive to each new touch.

Brian shook his head, letting go of the blond locks. He wasn’t sure he liked Justin at this very moment. And not because his heart was broken. Only because this wasn’t a side of Justin he expected to see. “YOU would look for a quick appeasement to rid yourself of any guilt.”

Justin squinted his eyes in puzzlement. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Think about it, Blondie. Who do you think I was with tonight? At Babylon? Who thought it was safe to come in to see who you were *getting lucky* with?”

“Shit! Michael.” Justin rolled his head over to speak into the ear directly near his mouth of the man who was laying, exhausted, over him. He then moved to put an arm over his face.

“Ding-Ding-Ding-Ding!” Brian hit the mattress like he was clanging a bell, or a buzzer on a game show. “I had no idea you hated him this much. Me, I’m fine with whatever, but Michael is...”

Those eyes. If only they could have seen his eyes. The ones that avoided pain that wrenching to the soul. Fuck!

“I don’t, Brian. I swear. We didn’t mean...”

“Bullshit! I don’t believe you. In fact... you know, I would really love it if you never said one more word, because anything you say after this moment is gonna make me go ape shit.”

“Oh... my... God...” The words had been forced out of the beautiful body who’d just thoroughly fucked Justin’s brains out. He pulled out of Justin’s ass, using his arms to hold his torso up, catching his breathing under control. “I have to talk to Michael. I have to go back to the apartment. I need to talk to him.”

“NO!” Brian stated emphatically, extremely protective of Michael.

“Ben... no...” Justin was simply frightened of Ben leaving him here alone with Brian. He’d wished to have the older man here to vouch for their digressions.

Brian was a little unnerved that Justin had been able to lay claim on Ben so quickly, like this had been going on longer than he even thought. Damn them both! “Neither of you have any cause to say one word to Michael, except trying to save your asses. What would you exactly chat about, Benji,... hmm? Tell Michael what it feels like to be in that sweet, tight Blond ass? Ix-nay on the bleeding heart confession, man. For both of you. Michael doesn’t need to hear your lies, your bullshit excuses. And you, Professor Bruckner, are staying right here! Keep Justin company, entertain him like you usually do. He’s gotten so bored these days.”

“Who put you in charge of Michael’s life?!” Ben huffed out in frustration.

“You did, asshole. You’ve lost all privileges, Benji. You’ve, also, lost something pretty special tonight. I hope it’s all worth it.” Brian moved his legs to shuffle off the bed. He was moving to head out the door. He couldn’t even look in their direction any longer. Brian Kinney was disgusted, shocked to the core.

“Brian!!”

Halfway across the loft, Brian paused, spinning on his feet. He noticed Justin trying to crawl from under Ben’s huge, muscular body, working a bed sheet around his waist. “What, now?!”

Leaning on the border of the bedroom wall, Justin remained on the top step, staring Brian down.“Take care of him, like you know he needs. Do what you have to,... to, you know...”

“Are you giving me permission to *fuck* him, Justin?”

“Whatever you both want.. goes. It’s the final piece of the puzzle, Brian.” Justin grinned sheepishly. He and Ben had some fairly deep, long conversations about this very subject.

“Excuse me?” Brian crossed his arms over his chest, completely confused by Justin’s cryptic comment.

“Full circle, Brian. That’s all I’m saying. You and Ben... then me and you... then Ben and Michael... then Ben and I, so the next step would be...” Justin didn’t think he had to vocalize the known answer.

“You forgot to include the possibility of you and Michael, but I can tell you right now... you are NEVER fuckin' getting your paws on him!” Brian rolled his eyes at Justin’s fucked-up logic.

“Then aren’t you glad I chose Ben, instead of your precious Michael, this time?”

“This time?!” Bastard! What a little predator he’d become. “Is that a *warning*? For me to pick up my slack and make my move? And if I don’t... what’s gonna happen? You plan on taking Michael away from me, too?”

Justin shrugged his shoulders, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’ll have to stick around to find out, won’t you? Oh... and not to worry, I’ll be out of your hair in two days.”

“Good. Not that I was fretting on where you’d go when I kicked your ass out.”

One last solemn look toward Brian, Justin allowed himself to show no emotion. “You should have kicked me out long ago.”

“I think that’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said that I’ve agreed with. Excuse me...” Brian hurried out of the loft. Once he was out in the hall, sliding the door shut, he was startled into sobriety.

What the fuck had just happened?

Brian stood, lost for a few minutes in his mind, mulling over all the emotions he’d run through tonight. The way Michael had run away, Brian had been certain he was outside, halfway down the street. He leaned his forehead against the cool metal.

Oh, Mikey! I feel so...

Brian placed his palms, flat to the surface as he pushed away. Just as he was making his way to head down the stairs, he was stunned by the sight of Michael, huddled, hidden near the elevator. He faltered in his steps. “I was, uh... on my way to come find you. I thought you might have...”

Michael slowly nodded his head. “I know. I know. I couldn’t leave without you, though. Something told me to stay back. Not to go too far.”

Brian could see the tears, the wetness pouring forth, leaving tiny trails through the facial make-up. “Mikey...” He slowly approached, his body tight and apprehensive.

“What the fuck do I do now?”

Brian huffed out a snicker. “If it was me,... well, first I would have...” He shut his eyes to the intense pain Michael’s eyes shot toward him. Shit! “But it’s not ME, it’s you.”

“Justin...?” Michael’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“He was free to do whomever, whatever, he wanted.”

“Still, Brian, there’s something there to ruin. Even if you never said the words.” Michael sniffled, staring down at the floor. His hands were shaking badly. Tucking them behind him, he sat on the tops, palms flat on the brick. “I’m not sure what to do with myself. How to feel. How to react. What to say.”

“Michael, if you already knew how you’d be, then you’re a fuckin’ liar. Feeling nothing, unsure of things, stunned beyond belief... is just as tangible as being pissed, getting bitchy or wanting to sob uncontrollably. As long as you’re truthful to yourself, willing to admit your fallacies. Whatever will get you through this time.”

Michael didn’t glance up, he kept nodding his head in agreement. After a few seconds, his shoulders began to shake, his head bowed to his chest and the weeping began.

Brian was quick to curve his hands around Michael’s sagging head. He lifted his face up to look into his eyes. “Good God, Mikey. You fuckin’ break my heart.” He pressed tender kisses over Michael’s contorting features.

“I’m sorry.” Michael latched onto Brian’s wrists.

“Don’t apologize.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop!”

Sighing a long breath, Michael weakly drew his arms from his backside to loosely latch onto Brian’s waist. His fingers catching on straps, buckles and belt loops. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Staring intently down into those childlike eyes of his best friend, Brian found himself unable to speak, for only a few seconds. “Nothing.”

“Why can’t I do this? Why can’t I hold onto a man? Is it something I’m doing that chases them away?”

Brian shook his head slowly. “It’s the cheater, Mikey, who lacks something.”

Michael went on to speak as if he hadn’t heard one word from Brian. “Maybe... something I didn’t do?”

Brian bumped Michael’s jaw to get him to look up at him, directly in the eyes. “Michael, I’ve been by your side through many of your relationships with other men...” He found it difficult to say these words out loud. “I have no clue to what THEY see, but when you’re with someone, you give them your undivided attention. You’re focused on them. What makes THEM happiest. At times, you sacrifice your own emotions for their sake. Almost compromising your integrity. But should you get *burned*, you never get bitchy, groaning and moaning about how shitty your life is... you’re always willing to chalk it up to a lesson learned.” The back of his knuckles scraped over Michael’s cheek. “And you love... with all that’s in you. Totally and utterly enraptured by what they make you feel. Sometimes I think you give too much of yourself, too soon. Once things end, you tend to feel this overwhelming sense of loss... like a part of YOU is missing. But you’re wrong. You’ve been YOU all along, just haven’t found the *right* man, yet.”

“I know. I wonder if I ever will.” Michael closed his eyes to the pain re-entering his chest. Brian had pegged him so beautifully. “I promise, one day, I’ll grow up to be just like you.”

“Don’t, Mikey. Don’t ever change. Don’t think you have to become someone else in order to make others happy. Don’t ever use that as an excuse to make it through a bad situation. That wouldn’t be YOU.”

“It kind of feels shitty being ME, right now.”

Brian lifted up the side of his mouth in a smirk. “Welcome to the club.”

Michael nudged his face against Brian’s jaw. “I want to leave. Take me home.”

Home? “The apartment?”

Michael shook his head. He let out a sigh of contentment being in Brian’s embrace.

The idea came quickly to Brian once he allowed himself to think like Michael. “Oh, right.” He dug around in the leather pockets and the jacket. He was searching for his cell phone. “We’re in no shape to drive the ‘Vette. I’ll call us a cab.”

As if the world aligned and they became one person, they both looked at one another.

“CAB!” They dissolved into crazy giggles of stupidity at their common sense of humor.

“Thank you, Brian.” Michael let out his breath in a sigh of defeat, willing to give himself over to Brian’s care.

Listening to the rings, Brian was bewildered by Michael’s gentle release. “What are you talking about? I haven’t done anything.”

“More than you know.”

Brian wasn’t sure how to read into a statement like that.  


  


 **~~ &&~~**

On the cab ride over, through the stares they received from their odd appearances, Brian and Michael sat in the back seat in silence.

At first, they kept to their respective sides, staring out the windows at Pittsburgh. Michael was the first to change position. He turned to sit looking out the windshield. Then Brian shuffled about, drawing his left leg up, bent at the knee. He tucked his foot under his right knee. Now, he was centered in the corner.

As thoughts began to mull over in Michael’s mind, he suffered a glance at Brian. Hazel eyes were darting over the traffic, his arms crossed over his chest. Exhaling on a heavy sigh, Michael began to stare, at Brian, until he’d unnerved him to the point where he had to look back.

Brian’s gaze squinted, momentarily, wondering if he was reading Michael’s body language correctly. He tilted his head to the side, watching Michael progress across the bench seat toward him. His eyes moved to check where the cab driver’s eyes were. “Michael...”

Michael stretched over to press an innocent kiss under Brian’s ear, to the sensitive skin of his neck. He burrowed his nose in the warm crevice, sinking the rest of his muscles into loosening gradually.

Brian had no other recourse but to pull Michael closer, the compact body falling limply into his arms. What he really felt like doing was scooting down to lay fully on the seat, Michael cuddled close. But their ride would be over shortly. There were better places to hold Michael, the way he wanted.

Brian could see the *looks* beginning, from the driver, once Michael had come over to his side of the cab. No need to stir up trouble. He only did what his heart was screaming to do.

 **_**Take Michael in your arms and show him how much he’s loved.**_ **

Brian could follow that command fairly easily. As long as Michael didn’t ask him too many questions that would rip their hearts out, he’d be fine

**~~ &&~~&&~~END FLASHBACK~~&&~~&&~~**  
 **~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

A soft place to fall... a constant heart and a capacity of forgiveness... again and again.

That's what we were for each other.

He’s cried himself to sleep again. I’m not letting him go for nothing and nobody. If no one else wants him, I will gladly pick up the slack and take over. I would take the responsibility of guarding his heart  
like I’ve done before, when we were kids.

I would even protect him from his own family. Especially Debbie, who would never understand what’s happened and why... Michael needs to go away. She’d relentlessly pester us, wondering why her son was back living in his old bedroom. And why *I* had seemed to have returned, permanently, in Michael’s life. She hadn’t seen Ben in weeks. Not very good for a mother-in-law to be shut out of her own son’s wedding plans.

Did we dare burst her bubble on her precious son-in-law? She already seemed to have lost faith in Michael. I feared one more slip-up in the romance department and she’d cut her losses, damaging any form of relationship with her baby son. It didn’t help that the one man Michael did love... me... wasn’t worth the shit, on the bottom of her shoe, she’d just stepped in.

I was alright with that. I understood her awkward love/hate relationship with me. I was a dangerous gamble, untrustworthy and unpredictable. I didn’t blame her one bit. It was her transference of those same hatreds, in these last few years, onto Michael that angered me. Something had gone on in their past, way before I ever came into the Novotny household that had ripped apart the mother/son bond. I was frightened by what could have been kept secret from me. Could it have been something even darker than Jack’s physical abuse of me?

I can feel him waking up. The subtle movements of body parts and muscles. The change in breathing patterns. He squeezing me tighter. His hand wandering over my naked chest, playing with my nipples and writing invisible words and drawings with his fingers. I feel his foot rubbing up and down my calf area. He’s relaxed, prepared to discuss whatever's on his mind.

With Michael that can be open for anything.

“Brian?”

“Hmm.” I was losing myself in the essence of Michael’s calming aura.

“Let’s run away. Like you suggested earlier.”

I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly. “Run away?” At Michael’s slow nod against my chest, I looked up at the ceiling. “Are you sure? Mikey, I was fairly *high* when I made that suggestion.”

“Not for too long. Only a few days. Make it a long weekend. Cross country.”

“Michael it takes nearly a week to get across half the United States in the first place. Unless you plan on us driving non-stop, twenty-four-seven, trading off the steering duties.” I heard Michael’s deep sigh of disillusionment. His bubble having the air let out, slowly.

Damn! Wasn’t I the spontaneous one, always willing to leap before looking?

“Right. Bad idea.” Michael sounded so let down. He patted my shoulder. “Come on...” He decided to flip us over. “I’ve been sleeping all night.” He propped himself against his headboard, Captain Astro pillows at his back. “Get some sleep, Kinney. Rest up for tomorrow. I’ve got some places I want to show you tomorrow. I’ve been holding back on you. I think it’s time. Time for you and I to head back to our good old fashion bachelor days of living on Liberty Avenue” His body was laying open in silent invitation to crawl inside, where he wanted me to fit. Where I knew I would fit, just perfectly.

I bowed my head in quiet shame. Michael was the only person I knew who could find his own comfort in alleviating other’s pain. I climbed on top, filling the empty spaces, wrapping my body around him, finding my usual niche in his enveloping arms. One of his arms crossed over my shoulders, cupping the boney end, rubbing down the biceps. I wished, for one minute, that I could give him whatever he wanted at that moment, but I was afraid. Afraid of what making myself THAT vulnerable to him would do to our relationship. I was oddly content just laying in his embrace, feeling him attempt to send me off to sleep.

Michael bent his head to whisper near my ear. “I don’t care what kind of bullshit you feed me, Kinney... I think Justin’s an ass.”

I turned my face into his chest, chuckling against his musky scented pale skin.

Why did being here... whether holding him or being held by him... was I able to know exactly what my life was meant for?

  


 **==========THE END==========**

  



End file.
